


Double life you lead

by Jinx



Series: Hurricane Drunk [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cutting, Gen, Pack- Character, Self Harm, Stiles centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinx/pseuds/Jinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is loosing his footing as the world starts spinning out from under him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double life you lead

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small fic that is Stiles centric, it will become Sterek later on but for right now the plot line is not very nice or happy. This is sort of a song-fic. The title of this part is taken from Jakalope's song Tell me why. 
> 
> There are some things that might be triggers for some. The story does mention cutting, while I have cut in the past it isn't something I endorse even though I understand the need to do it. The two songs that Make up this story are Broken Pieces by Apocalyptica feat. Lacey and Tell me Why by Jakalope. 
> 
> Other then that I hope you like it.

It starts with the mirror in the bathroom, after Lydia's party, after the hallucinations. After getting away from the cops, after Lydia had disappeared. It happens so suddenly that Stiles honestly couldn't tell you what he was thinking just that he was still aching from the aftermath, aching from the words that spilled from his fathers mouth. 

He knows it was just a hallucination, he's come to that conclusion but it doesn't stop the shakes; doesn't stop the pain from settling deep in his chest, choking him slowly. His throat is too tight for him to pull in proper lungfuls of air, a pressure on his chest like a thirty pound weight. He's gripping the edge of the sink till its digging into his palms as he fights for control.

Then the next thing he knows, he's blinking in confusion at shards of glass all over the floor, in the sink, on the counters; little flecks dotting the knuckles on his right hand, blood slowly riveting down the back. He's standing there blinking in confusion even as the pain from before seems to fade just a little. 

Stiles doesn't know why he does it, it wasn't even a conscious thought. Not really, but he's picking up a shard carefully eying the point and the jagged edges. He doesn't know how long he stood their bare feet covered in shards, blood dotting them as well before he's pushing up his shirt sleeves and dragging the sharp point slowly carefully along his arms.

He doesn't just dig it in and pull no he takes his time drawing lines and swirls on his skin with the edge causing goose bumps to appear. Head tilting to the side before he's digging the edge in, hissing at the sudden flair of sharp pain. Slicing careful straight lines into his forearms while cutting his fingers on the edges. Stiles doesn't even realize he's crying till his back is pressed against the far wall, broken ragged sobs falling from his chest, forcing their way past his tight throat. Blood dripping from his sliced fingers, his feet, his knuckles and the slices on his arm. But the ache inside, the hollowed empty feeling; the echo of his fathers voice were all slowly fading away in face of this new throbbing heated pain. 

Blinking through tear filled eyes he looks at all the shards of the mirror, he chokes back the sobs, stifles them as much as he can. The dark blood dotting and streaked along the counter and the floor, the heavy iron scent of it coating his tongue and burning his nose. In a way the scent was calming, something he's become used too over the last months, though its a morbid comfort to say the least. 

The cuts are starting to ache, throb and pulse as his blood continues to ooze out of the thin lines. Swallowing thickly he shifts on the floor mindful of the broken pieces of the mirror. He's careful as he opens the cupboard to pull out the first aid kit they kept there. Stiles is breathing out shallowly as the pain in his wrists picks up, stinging sharply as he moves his hands to get everything he would need to clean them out.

His arms ache, his feet sting and his hands feel tender and sore by the time he's done cleaning out the cuts and bandaging everything. He's just finishing sweeping up the glass, his shirt sleeves covering the bandages wrapped around his forearms; when the front door opens and his dads calling out. His throats closing up at the sound of his dad's voice, eyes widening and hands trembling but he steals himself.

“Up here, had an accident.” He manages to choke out the lie easily through the tightness of his throat as he looks out of the bathroom door to see his father at the top of the stairs. “I'm fine.” Stiles hurries to reassure not wanting his dad to panic. “I slipped, broke the mirror and managed to cut up my fingers while cleaning up.” He continues as he eyes his dad with wide eyes, watches as his dad's head bows and he lets out a breath before nodding. His dads face is worn and creased from stress as he forces a small tired smile before turning away. 

Stiles winces and looks away as his dads bedroom door shuts firmly behind him. Letting out a breath that sounds more like a sob he hurries to finish getting rid of all the broken glass, his tongue feeling heavy from the lie. It's always feeling heavy now, always thick in his mouth and coated with bitter honey. But he can't stop them from falling, he doesn't want his dad mixed up in this, he needs to keep him safe. So he swallows down the bitter and cold guilt till it sits heavy in his center as he finishes cleaning up. 

Shuffling down to his room, he shuts the door quietly behind him wondering how lying came so easily, because he doesn't remember being there when they taught him how. All but tossing himself down on his bed, Stiles lets out a long groan of appreciation at how comfortable it is under him as exhaustion finally settles in.

It settles deep in his bones, making him feel heavy like he had a fifty pound really comfortable weight along his back. Carefully folding his arms under and around his pillow, Stiles wiggles into his bedding with another soft sound. The dull throbbing sensation coming from the cuts a unique lullaby to drift off too. Its a restless sleep though, Stiles jerking awake with a gasp as the hallucination comes drifting back to him in his dreams. Sitting up he rubs at his face tiredly as he shifts to press his back against his head board. He doesn't know what happened tonight, doesn't know how it all happened he just knows that something is wrong. 

Something isn't right, its a tingling sensation running along his arms, prickling just under his skin making him twitchy as he glances around to see what could be off. But his bedroom is just how he left it, nothing altered or missing; and yet something is dangerously wrong. Shifting out of his bed, he stands on shaky legs but Stiles isn't still for long; He's grabbing a sweatshirt and his flashlight, ignoring his shoes and heading out of the house. 

The grass is cold under his bare feet, the starting of dew sending chills down his spine as he walks through his backyard to get to the fence that kept the woods at bay. Head tilting to the side as he listens to the silence that blankets the world, no cars on the roads, no birds or crickets sounding off in the woods. Its a disconcerting feeling, the woods are never quiet unless something is happening, something that has all the other creatures hiding in their dens to escape the notice of the more dangerous predators in their midst. Turning back towards his house he frowns at all the dark windows and knows that his dad has heard him leave the house and after the lies already told? What is one more in the sea of the lies that's between them. 

Sighing quietly he heads back towards his house at a mild jog no matter his feet ache. By the time he reaches the back door, the disconcerting feeling of wrong as vanished leaving behind a feeling of static in the air. Frowning he turns back to eye the woods in frustration as the prickling sensation slowly fads away. 

“Stiles what the hell are you doing outside this late?” Comes his fathers aggravated growl as he leans out of his bed room window. The sharpness of his tone making Stiles wince once more and look towards the back door as he swallows tightly. 

“Nothing I just thought I saw something...” He says slowly voice trailing off as his father gives a huff and the bedroom window shuts firmly. It used to be that his dad would question him more, worry more but after months of lies, deflection and space; Stiles guesses that his dad just lost the will or the ability. Plus he would willingly pay any price to keep his dad safe even if the price is their relationship, he knows he can't take another loss.


End file.
